My favorite farmer and I share a love of water skiing. There is a lake about 10 miles south of Cozad, and our chosen summertime Sunday afternoon activity is to go out on the boat. We have a variety of “water apparatuses” to ride including a double slalom ski that Matt built a few years ago.

As the end of September approaches, our night temperatures dip down in the 40’s making skiing in the lake a bit chilly. With our girls in the midst of their fall sports seasons, skiing time bumps down on the priority scale, and we grudgingly take the boat out of the water marking the end of the summer. Cold Nebraska temperatures necessitate “winterizing” the boat, and we take it about 50 miles down the road to Buzz’s Marine every fall.

My Florida raised competitive swimmer skin necessitates a bi-annual trip to the dermatologist. Her office is located near the boat dealer, so yesterday I drew the “short straw” to drive the boat trailer to Kearney. The driver’s side tire on the trailer had been bugging me since I pulled the boat out of the water Sunday. I couldn’t pin point what is was, but my gut told me we had a problem brewing.

I pulled onto Interstate 80 and made it about 10 miles before the above mentioned trailer tire blew out. Fortunately, I have experience pulling trailers and was watching the tire closely as my gut refused to give up the warning. Consequently, I was able to calmly put on my hazards, pull slowly to the shoulder of the road, and assess the damage.

My favorite farmer was in the midst of a Certified Organic Inspection on the farm, so he *wisely* screened my post damage assessment call. As Megan pointed out a few weeks ago, my feed yard foreman is awesome and was quick to answer the phone when I called him for advice.

Doug and I had a chuckle that I should have ignored my husband and listened to my gut…and then decided that it would be best to creep slowly on the shoulder until I could exit the interstate. Once off the interstate, I found a nice quiet spot on the gravel to take the tire off. Doug met me and ran the bad tire back to town, and had a new one put on the rim. I continued (minus the boat and trailer) to my doctor’s appointment and got there with a couple of minutes to spare…

I pride myself on being a capable person. Although I was raised a “city kid”, I have forced myself to learn the hands on problem solving/crisis prevention lessons that are ingrained in every farmer. It is important to me that my girls learn these same skills and we often talk about them at the family dinner table. There are a number of lessons to be learned with this story, and I am quite certain that this experience will lead to an incredibly interesting dinner hour conversation…

Welcome to Feedyard Foodie

A native of urban Palm Beach County, Florida; I was an Ivy League educated athlete fueled by beef for many years before I understood “where my beef came from.” Now, I am a mother of three and live with my husband in Nebraska where we run a cattle feedyard and farming operation. Feed Yard Foodie is a site where people can come to read about the real story of beef, written by someone who actually gets their hands dirty.

Behind the Scenes at my Yard, Will Feed, Inc.

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